An Unexpected Life
by JoselynRae
Summary: "I have lost two great loves in my life. One was taken from me. The other left me of his own volition and never looked back. I am not sure which one hurt more." –McCall. A series of letters written by McCall to Hunter as she deals with a complicated time in her life. The lesson she learns, though, is that you cannot always believe everything you are told.
1. Chapter 1

**An Unexpected Life**

"I have lost two great loves in my life. One was taken from me. The other left me of his own volition and never looked back. I am not sure which one hurt more." –McCall. A series of letters written by McCall to Hunter as she deals with a complicated time in her life. The lesson she learns, though, is that you cannot always believe everything you are told. The story begins toward the end of season 5, post "The Last Run."

May 21, 1989

Rick,

It's been over a month since the last time I talked to you, six weeks since I last saw you. I have tried calling a couple of times – Charlie gave me the phone number where you are staying in Miami. I hope you aren't too mad at him for that. He is not very good at dealing with crying women, and I am sorry to say that I did use that tactic on purpose. I think he feels sorry for me. It has been tough going to work every day without you there. Your desk is still unoccupied and I am still without a partner. I'm beginning to wonder if Charlie cannot find anyone willing to partner with me. Maybe everyone is worried that they can't fill your shoes. I guess that is probably true. I am not much help either, I will not choose one for myself because I refuse to give up on you.

I was really hoping that I could talk to you, that I could tell you my news myself instead of leaving it on an answering machine. I finally gave up hope that you were going to return my calls, though. You do understand that I had to tell you, even if it was in a message.

I get that you do not want me in your life anymore. You made that clear when you called me last month. I am confused by the sudden turn of events, but I respect your feelings all the same. I knew there was a risk in changing our relationship from strictly platonic, to, well, something very not platonic. I guess I was naïve to think that our friendship was strong enough to weather a failed romantic involvement. I am realizing the hard way that "we" meant more to me than it did to you.

We made a baby, Rick. I'm scared to death, but that little phrase makes me smile. We made a baby. You can do the math – one weekend together six weeks ago – that makes me about eight weeks along. I never actually thought about having a child with you, I mean we were barely lovers before it was over, but now I cannot imagine being pregnant by anyone else. It seems perfect, you know. A little piece of us lives on, even if 'Hunter and McCall' no longer exists.

I love this baby. I want this baby with every fiber of my being. You may be gone, but you left me a parting gift. I finally get to be the mother I always wanted to be. It's not the perfect situation, but I can deal with it. It's not the first time I have contemplated being a single mother, as I am sure you remember.

I realized I was pregnant a little over two weeks ago. One morning I woke up and nothing fit. It was the weirdest thing. Out of the blue I could not button my pants, not that I'm showing yet, my whole body just seemed to swell up overnight. It was certainly strange since I will admit to being a bit depressed lately, and having very little appetite. How could I possibly be gaining weight? When the nausea started later that afternoon I knew something was going on. Nine positive home pregnancy tests later, there was no denying it.

I know you never really wanted children, so I'd never force you into being a father. If you do not want us in your life, which it appears you do not, I will respect that. Although, I am not giving up hope that maybe, just maybe, someday you will love our child even if you no longer love me.

I'm still not used to you being gone. For six years you were my best friend, the person who kept my secrets, the person who always answered their phone when I needed someone to talk to at 2am. I hardly know what to do with myself these days. I have so many things to share with you, so many things I want to tell you and yet I can't. So I decided to write it all down, in a way I guess I am pretending that I am talking to you. I do not actually plan to send this letter, out of respect for your wishes, but writing it has helped me feel a little less alone.

I hope everything is going well for you in Miami, and that this new position with the MPD is everything you were hoping it would be.

Take care,

Dee Dee

xxx

June 7, 1989

Rick,

I heard the heartbeat today! My first doctor's appointment was this morning. I am ten weeks along now. I was able to see the baby on the ultra-sound. I am amazed at what you can see at only ten weeks! And the heartbeat…strong and steady and perfect. It's real. There really is a baby growing in there, and he or she is perfect. Can I admit to you that I cried? So far, all I have felt is morning sickness. There's no kicking, I'm not showing, I am just sick and exhausted all the time. ALL THE TIME. Seeing the baby and knowing it is real, it was so very overwhelming.

Ok, so things are not exactly _perfect_. I'm losing weight instead of gaining. Morning sickness is whipping my butt and I have yet to figure out why it's called morning sickness to begin with. In my case it's all day long, never relenting, pretty much sucking the life out of me sickness. I am trying to eat when I can and I am following all of my doctor's suggestions. Hopefully this will pass soon. You should see the lengths I go to trying to hide this, but I'm probably not as successful as I think I am. Charlie has been asking questions, he must be suspicious. I started out with the excuse that I had a stomach bug….a stomach bug that has lasted five weeks now. Yeah, the rumors are probably starting to fly.

I finally got assigned a new partner – a rookie detective who is too preoccupied with trying to prove he's the best detective ever to grace the streets of LA…with his very first case…to even notice how often I disappear to the lady's room. (Or behind the car or around the corner of a building or that strange little alcove in the parking garage that we always thought would make a great hiding place for a mugger. That alcove is now home to the remains of yesterday's lunch when I just couldn't make it into the first floor restroom fast enough.) I am really not in a position to be training some new hotshot right now, but he is overly eager for a good report from me and is willing to do anything I tell him. Thank goodness, too, because the sterilized death smell of the morgue sets my stomach off as soon as I open the door. He accepts every one of my excuses for skipping out on those trips to morgue without hesitation, and that right there tells you what a fabulous detective he is not.

So far nobody else knows. I am not ready for the questions, the assumptions, the knowing looks I'll get from the rest of the squad. I am also not ready to be chained to my desk, of course.

It's getting late and I feel a wave nausea coming on, so I am going to try to fall asleep before dinner makes a second appearance.

Goodnight,

Dee Dee

xxx

June 14, 1989

Rick,

My doctor has me coming into her office weekly to check my weight. The good news is that I have not lost any more weight. The bad news is that I have not gained either. I am eleven weeks now. One more week and I will be in the second trimester. Everything I have read says the morning sickness and the exhaustion is supposed to subside after the first the trimester, fingers crossed. I am really tired of drinking ginger ale and ginger tea. I never want to taste ginger again.

I am working a case with Brad and Kitty right now. Yep, you guessed it, another rape-homicide. My favorite…. Working so closely with Kitty, she recognized my symptoms pretty quickly. I have no doubt she has also figured out that you are the father, but she has never asked. It's nice that someone knows, nice to have someone I can talk to now. She has been a good friend, and Lord knows I need one right now. She even covered for me a couple of days ago. I was so tired I was falling asleep during an interrogation, so I skipped out early to go home and sleep. Apparently Brad and Charlie think I spent the entire afternoon tracking down a potential witness that doesn't even exist.

People still ask me about you all time. Everyone is assuming that we keep in touch. It's a hard question for me to answer. When I plaster a fake smile on my face and respond 'I haven't talked to him' they just keep looking at me waiting for some explanation. That's when I turn around and walk away, not giving them an opportunity for additional questions.

I told my mother that I'm pregnant. I am sure you can imagine how that conversation went without me telling you, so I won't.

Dee Dee

xxx

June 20, 1989

Rick,

Well, Charlie now knows that I am expecting. I had been planning for weeks how I would tell him – what I would say, how much I'd tell him, what kind of tone I would use. I had decided to be cheerful, give him the news as if I had been trying and praying for this baby for years. It wouldn't be too hard, you know, I am honestly happy and excited about having a baby. I tried to imagine how he would react and what questions he would ask. I definitely wanted to be prepared for THE question – is the baby yours. The way it all unfolded, however, was not at all what I had in mind.

I was in Charlie's office going over my case with him, and when I got up to leave I collapsed. I told you I thought he was suspicious, well fainting in his office confirmed it. He rushed me to the hospital and stayed with me for several hours. You would be proud of him, he was gentle and caring while keeping me company, the same way you always were on the various occasions I found myself in the hospital. It's a shame his marriage did not work out, Charlie would have been a great father.

I was diagnosed with hyperemesis gravidarum, a fancy name for severe morning sickness. Hmm, yes, I could have diagnosed myself with that. Despite all my efforts, I was dehydrated and malnourished and spent the next 24 hours on IV fluids.

I feel like a failure. I failed in caring for my child. The baby is small for as far along as I am. He (she) is not getting enough nourishment to thrive since I have been unable to keep food down for the past few weeks. There is a very strong chance I will miscarry.

My mother is with me, helping me out while I am on bed rest for a few days. All I can do now is wait. Wait to see if our little one is going to make it. I have no doubt he or she is a fighter. You are the strongest person I've ever met, physically and mentally. See, right here is where you would tell me that I am, too. And then I would get embarrassed and change the subject before things got too serious or too emotional. I could really use your strength right now…and a well-timed, but wholly inappropriate joke. I cannot remember the last time I laughed, an honest to goodness laugh.

I am doing everything I can to save our baby. I can't, I just can't lose him. I don't know how you can become so attached to something you can't see or touch, but you can. Maternal instinct I guess. He's my little buddy. It's just me and him, the two of us together facing an uncertain future. It's been less than three months, but I already cannot imagine my life without this little one with me. As you can see I have started thinking of the baby as a boy. Maybe because I picture a tiny you every time I dream about holding him.

Sleep, I am supposed to be sleeping. At the hospital I was told that I am also suffering from exhaustion. That seems impossible since I fall into bed as soon as I get home every night and sleep until the nausea wakes me up sometime in the wee hours of the morning. In any event my mother will have my hide if she finds me writing instead of sleeping.

Dee Dee

xxx

July 11, 1989

Rick,

I am still pregnant! 15 weeks already, can you believe it?! Four days of bed rest and having my mother around to cook and offer some moral support apparently did wonders for me. I am still struggling with the morning sickness, but it is getting better. I had a follow-up appointment with my OB last week and I have gained three pounds. It's not a lot, but it is something. The baby's heartbeat was stronger than it was at the hospital after I had fainted, and he has grown – all wonderful news. We are not out of the woods yet, but we are headed in the right direction.

I have started calling the baby Baby H. I was tired of saying 'he or she' all the time, and I absolutely refuse to say 'it.' Obviously, the baby's last name will not be Hunter. I would never do that without your consent, but to me he or she will always be Baby Hunter. And, come on, only a Hunter could make me this sick ha!

Watching you eat rabbit food all these years has finally served a purpose, turns out I learned a thing or two from you about eating healthy. I have been trying to eat better ever since I found out I was pregnant, but after our scare I am pulling out all the stops. You would not recognize my refrigerator. So maybe broccoli isn't all that disgusting after all. I still refuse to eat kiwi on my pizza, though. I have to draw the line somewhere.

I am officially on desk duty now. Charlie and I had a long discussion about my future as a cop. I cannot continue as a homicide detective and be a single mother. It looks like I have a couple of options, though. First, there is a new position being created called a Crime and Investigation Analyst. In a way it sounds like I would be doing similar work to what I am doing now, except that it is 100% a desk job and lots and lots of reports (you know how much I LOVE typing reports). It is a civilian position and feels like a safe option. Then, the academy is looking for a trainer for the sex crimes course. I certainly have the experience do teach that, but not sure I can really deal with that topic day in and day out. The job that interests me most is CPS investigator, but of all the options this one is the least likely to be nine-to-five. Thank goodness I still have a few months to decide.

Your mother called me last week; she was asking about you. She has not heard from you in months, and like everyone else, assumed I had. She sounded truly worried about you after hearing that you were not speaking to me either. I did not tell her about the baby, that is your option, but it was so hard not telling her that she is going to be a grandmother. It would make her so happy.

I am worried about you, too. Charlie, however, says you are doing well. He seems to be the only one in contact with you. This is not the first time I have gone to Charlie asking about you. Early on, I went to him questioning the phone number he gave me. I was hoping that you had changed numbers or moved or something, anything that might give me hope that you had not received my messages. That your radio silence was from lack of knowledge instead of lack of care. With pity written all over his face, he assured me that the phone number was correct.

You need to call your mother,

Dee Dee

xxx

July 22, 1989

Rick,

I'm showing! It's the tiniest of little bumps, nobody will be able to see it under my clothes, but it's there. Finally. I have been longing for some sign, beyond the horrid morning sickness. This also means Baby H is growing! This could be premature, but I feel like I can breathe again. I did not realize until now that I wasn't breathing, that I have just been a big ball of anxiety waiting for next shoe to fall.

I know that soon enough I will not be able to hide my expanding waistline, and that will bring a whole new set of challenges. Until then I am going to enjoy this little bump, a little something to run my hand over and remember. Remember that I have somebody that depends on me to be strong, to keep pushing, that my life has a purpose. Remember the love that created that little growing bump. You said that you lied when you told me you loved me, but it was love when we made Baby H. I am sure of that. And for that brief moment in time my world was beautiful.

Dee Dee

xxx

August 5, 1989

Rick,

18 weeks and I am getting bigger every day. I am still able to hide it pretty well although my cheeks and my hips are starting to get a little plump. Except I am sure that Bob and Frank have noticed that my chest is bigger since they stare in that general area every time I talk to them. Humph.

I was reading a few nights ago that Baby H is now the size of a sweet potato. What a funny thing to compare him to. I am hungry all the time now, a wonderful feeling! The nausea is not completely gone, but it tends to only pop up when I haven't eaten in a while. There are lots of not-so-fun symptoms going on, as well, but I will skip over those. I doubt you want to hear about them anymore than I want to tell you, so I will spare you the details. My body is definitely changing and finding ways of coping with my little invader.

So…I have a big announcement….I am no longer an LAPD detective. Shed a tear with me? It is painful to even say it. I took the civilian crime analyst position, which I started last week. You know how every time I experienced a traumatic event (the rape, getting shot, etc.) I had an almost desperate desire for normalcy? I think this job will give me that feeling as my personal life is in a constant state of chaos. I am still part of the Central Division, still working at Parker Center, still working with detectives and helping to solve cases. It is an entirely new position, so there is an opportunity to create and mold this into something really beneficial. There is a substantial amount of training, which will probably fill the remainder of my pregnancy. I will be doing some travel, as well, in the near future while I still can. There is a conference in Washington, D.C., that I will be attending soon. I will be working under Lt. Kyle, did you ever meet him? He is a good man and is sympathetic to my situation. He has two children himself, the second is just a few months old. He understands the demands of young kids, being yoked to daycare hours, all the various illnesses and doctor's visits. He is also supportive of my request to take the full twelve weeks allowed for maternity leave.

Now the down side is that I took a pay cut. Between the maternity leave and daycare, it will be a financial struggle. The important part, though, is that I have a safe and stable job and that I can be home with Baby H as much as possible. There is also very little chance I will ever again be on disciplinary leave without pay, so there is that. Remember how it used to seem like we were always under some kind disciplinary action? It has been a while, though, since either of us has been on forced leave hasn't it? When did we become rule abiders and responsible adults? Oh, that's right, when we got old. In any event, I better lose all of the baby weight and fast because my wardrobe budget is taking a pretty serious hit.

I allowed myself to walk through the baby section at a department store for the first time. So many women talk about drooling over all the adorable clothes and having the nursery completely decorated the moment they find out they are pregnant. I have almost been scared to even look at baby stuff, as if there is still a chance I will lose him and buying or even just dreaming about the stuff would be too much to bear. It's a ludicrous thought because I could not be more attached to Baby H than I already am. I am reading everything I can get my hands on about pregnancy and birth and babies. I guess I feel a need to prepare myself mentally before I start preparing physically, you know. Oh, but seeing the cribs and swings and blankets and the teeny tiny clothes makes it really hard to contain my excitement. I picked out a little newborn outfit, a jumper that was baby blue with white stripes and a football on the front, and I was equal parts marveled that in a few months I will be holding a tiny person small enough to fit in this outfit and horrified that I will be birthing something large enough to fit in this outfit.

Your mother called me again, your phone call to her made her very happy. She wanted to let me know that you are well, and I was glad to hear it. She did not say much more than that in regards to you, and I did not ask. If you wanted me know about your life now, you would tell me yourself. We spoke for a long time, it was really nice to talk to her. She has always treated me like a daughter, and I thank you for bringing her into my life. She never did bring up the baby, so I assume you did not tell her.

Dee Dee

xxx

August 30, 1989

Rick,

We are having a girl. A little girl! Pink tutus and bows and dollhouses and tea parties. I cannot wait. I was so sure Baby H was a boy. I had dreams of a miniature Rick running around the house and making messes in the backyard. Honestly, though, I have absolutely no idea what to do with little boys. Plus, with no other male around to help out with the boyish things, yes, I think having a girl is just perfect.

She (oh, I get to say SHE now!) is still growing and developing, a little behind schedule but catching up. Now that the morning sickness is gone we are both growing by leaps and bounds. This giant belly that appeared overnight leaves no doubt that I am indeed pregnant.

Kittens and glitter and butterflies and princesses, oh my!

Dee Dee

xxx

September 2, 1989

Rick,

I felt Baby H kick! Such a wonderfully strange feeling! You know what I did when it happened? I reached for the phone to call and tell you about it. It has been five months and I still miss you. You are still the first person I think of when I have a funny story to share, the first person I want to share good news with, the one and only person I want to share bad news with.

I am so confused about what happened to us. You just left. One day you were here and everything was great and the next day you were gone. How could your feelings for me change so suddenly? We have been best friends, been through everything together, know each other inside and out and you just woke up one day and decided you wanted me out of your life? Why didn't you tell me what was going on? You tell me you love me for the first time, all the while you are considering moving to Florida? None of this makes sense. I'm sorry, but I'm having trouble reconciling the man I knew, the man that I fell in love with, with the man who left.

You were the one person in my life that I trusted beyond a doubt. I trusted you would never hurt me, never. But you did. Our relationship was beyond petty arguments and misunderstandings. We talked about everything, there was no topic too embarrassing or too personal. So why didn't you talk to me? Did you think I wouldn't understand? You have never been a man to run away, you are strong and tough and the most confrontational person that ever lived, so I know you cannot be running away now.

Do you remember the things you said to me? Do you remember that night that everything changed? How we had been working really hard on that Grinaldo case, which had been emotionally draining. That Sacramento detective's daughter had been tortured and killed before we were able to find her, and then he turned his own gun on himself in front of you. It had already been a tough a case that had brought up a lot emotions, but after that you were really struggling. After spending that entire Friday doing the paperwork we picked up burgers and a bottle of wine for dinner to decompress at my house. It was something that we had done countless times, perfectly normal. But that evening was not normal. Although it was that detective's daughter that we were trying to rescue, we had been working under the pretenses that the woman was actually his partner. There were several moments throughout the case that we had contemplated what if it was one of us? How would we feel, what would we do, how would we react if it was us? Desperate. He was desperate, and we would have been, too. Sitting on my couch, after we had eaten and had had a glass of wine, you commented how you had identified so much with that detective. That watching him, you saw yourself if you were ever in that situation looking for me. But then we find out she was really his daughter. You said it made you question if maybe your feelings for me are further beyond professional than you even realize. I had been feeling the same way. Then you told me you might have done the same thing, suicide, if you had found me dead and tortured. That you wouldn't be able to live without me, especially with the weight of knowing you hadn't been able to save me in time. You held out your hand across the sofa cushions waiting for mine to meet it halfway between us. So I did. We sat there, holding hands, for a several long seconds. That could have been the end of it, one contemplative moment between friends acknowledging an affection for each other. Again, something not wholly out of character for us. But then you tugged my arm, just a slight little tug. Nothing pushy or insistent, just a quiet indicator that it was my decision to keep walking down that path or to stop. I took the invitation and moved closer, placing my hand on your cheek to turn your head and kiss you. I will never forget the feel of your smile against my palm or your sigh of relief against my lips. Do you remember this? What it felt like to kiss for the first time? As you pulled me closer and into your lap, deepening our kiss, the moment suddenly got real. I started questioning in my head if I was doing the right thing and if I was moving too fast. It had been such a dark, bleak couple of days – maybe I was just overly sensitive. That's when you broke the kiss just long enough to say, "Just so you don't have to ask, that is NOT my gun." It was as if you were reading my mind. The tension was broken. It was the craziest time for a joke, such a serious and emotional moment, but it was the perfect reminder of why I was there in your lap straddling you. I loved you, I loved us, and I didn't want to be anywhere else. I laughed, probably harder than the joke was worth, but I welcomed the comedic relief. I buried my head in your neck and hugged you tight, absorbing the moment. The smell of your skin. The feel of your pulse against my face. The sound of your breath as it tickled my ear. One of your hands toying with my hair at my nape and the other wrapped around my waist hugging me back. That was when you whispered that you loved me. I thought I was going to melt right into you until we became one person. I had never realized how desperately I wanted to hear those words from you. Joy spread across your face when I returned the sentiment. You cannot tell me that this happened to me alone.

We talked and laughed and joked all night, curled up and entwined with each other as if we were afraid to let go. You would think that we had no secrets left to share between us, but we reveled in this new found territory of topics; confessing secrets and telling stories that previously would have tripped the delicate balance of our friendship. We talked about the future, too. Our future. Where you lying when you told me you were ready to end our partnership because you wanted a romantic relationship instead? Our discussion on how long to wait before telling Charlie, how long we thought we could get away with being partners and lovers, and did we even want to try to do both or would it be too dangerous was purely entertainment for you? I wasn't entertained. I meant every word I said.

I poured out my heart and soul to you that night. How could you take my honesty and my sincerity, and turn your back on me without as much as an explanation? How could you not care? We spent six years caring about each other. Six years encouraging each other, pushing each other, consoling each other. Sitting at each other's hospital bedside, holding hands in ambulances, bandaging wounds, wiping away tears, and now that I need you most you abandon me.

Do you remember Saturday morning? Sleeping in late and lingering in bed, the lazy and sleepy love making. You made me pancakes for breakfast, although it was nearly noon. We took our pancakes, coffees and newspaper back to bed with us, where we spent the rest of the day. I never wanted that day to end. Sunday we walked on the beach and watched the sunset while wrapped up in a blanket, content to stay cuddled together long after the sun was gone and the inky blackness of the water was all we could see in the moonlight. I didn't know exactly where we were headed, if we would last, if marriage was something you would ever consider, but I didn't care. We were together and we were happy. It felt right.

Monday came and it was a little awkward at first, but soon enough the routine nature of our jobs took over and our professional rhythms fell into place. As the day progressed, however, you became increasingly distant. I kept telling myself that you were just overcompensating, like a rubber band pulling in one extreme trying to hide the other. By the time I was ready to leave for the day I could not even find you. You showed up at my home late that night, preoccupied and stressed. You would not tell me what was going on, but do you remember what you did say? You told me you loved me. You kissed me; a knees weakening, butterflies in my stomach, take my breath away kiss. As you held me right up against you, you begged me to never forget that you will always love me. Well, Rick, I haven't forgotten. Maybe that is why letting you go seems like an impossible task.

That was the last time I saw you. I had assumed you had gone undercover. We each had a couple of cases that we working independently at the time, and Charlie seemed to be in the know of your whereabouts although he would not give me any information. I was worried about you. It has always been difficult for me when I am not your backup – I just don't trust anyone else. More than a week later I finally heard your voice. I was so relieved that I nearly cried. That whole time I felt like a zombie, I was walking around and doing my job but I was barely living. My emotions were like a thin sheet of glass, holding strong as long as nothing bumped into me and shifted my careful balance. Your phone call shattered that glass. This was when you finally told me where you had been, about the new position in Miami. How you had flown there to interview, but things were happening so rapidly that you had already started working on a high profile case. That you would be moving to Miami permanently, but would not get a chance to come back to LA for your things for a while.

My whole world came crashing down around me as you told me our relationship was over, professionally and personally. I couldn't speak; I couldn't breathe. You said that you were wrong when you told me you loved me; that you realize now it was not love but a long-standing infatuation. You said you needed distance from me, and that you needed a life separate from me. The shock of it all paralyzed me. You said your peace, and then hung up without saying goodbye.

I have lost two great loves in my life. One was taken from me. I was able to grieve in public, and my pain was expected and recognized by those around me. The other left me of his own volition and never looked back. My pain is unknown to the world. My grief only allowed in my solitude, behind closed doors with a carefully painted façade of indifference. I am not sure which one hurts more.

I am hurt. I am frustrated. I am confused. But mostly, I miss you.

Goodbye.

_To be continued..._

_I have no idea what prenatal care was like in 1989, so I used what I know of today's standard. I otherwise try to be as accurate as possible to the time period. Chapter 2 coming soon!_


	2. Chapter 2

October 15, 1989

Rick,

Almost in to my seventh month, and goodness, once she started moving around she did not stop. She loves to play soccer with my bladder at 2am. We are both doing really well and my doctor says everything is how it should be. I am getting anxious to meet her.

I started, finally, preparing my extra bedroom for Baby H. I painted the walls a very pale pink. I always wanted to paint to my bedroom pink when I was a little girl, but my mother would not do it. So now Baby H gets to have my pink walls. I think it looks good with the white crib I purchased…and spent an entire weekend trying to put together. They really don't makes these things easy. I felt like I was taking an IQ test for prospective parents, if I can't figure out the crib assembly instructions I can't have the baby.

There is an amazing amount of stuff newborn babies need! You wouldn't think something so small could require an entire room full of stuff.

I am very clearly pregnant now and seeing people's reaction to it is often comical. No one knows what to say. It's amazing to me how most people do not tell me congratulations. Typically, you see a pregnant woman, you tell her congratulations. I guess they are assuming that since I am unmarried the pregnancy is unwanted, and I obviously cannot be happy about it. This has really made me realize how often people and their circumstances are stereotyped, you know. And judged. I feel judged by people who know nothing about me or my situation. What doesn't kill me makes me stronger, right? I think that should have been our motto, it certainly would have fit. We should have had it carved into the sides of our desks.

Dee Dee

xxx

November 15, 1989

Rick,

I am as big as a house…and I have two months left! Nine weeks does not feel like enough time to get everything ready, especially since I can barely move. Her bedroom is coming along, though. I managed to hang curtains last week, for some reason that makes the room feel finished. Friends have already started giving me presents. That is so nice of them. I swear I already have several months-worth of diapers, but Lisa tells me it's not even close. You remember my friend Lisa from college? Anyway, she and her husband (and their two little boys) helped me bring home the rocking chair and chest of drawers I bought for Baby H. She was a big help telling me what all I need, and what I don't, before Baby H arrives. I have a feeling I will be calling her a bunch the first few months. My mother only had one baby, and that was 33 years ago. I am not sure how much help she will be with caring for a newborn.

Homicide threw a baby shower for me yesterday. It was so sweet of them, especially since I left the department a few months ago. Even the guys got into it, they now have Baby H completely set up with Raiders, Lakers and Dodgers gear. I had no idea little pink Raiders onesies existed, but they are really quite cute. I am amazed at the outpouring of generosity by everybody. Charlie gave us a very nice swing and a bunch of clothes. I think even he is getting a little excited.

I saw your mother last weekend. After thinking and worrying about it for months, I made the decision to tell her myself. She is Baby H's grandmother, and Baby H and I could really use her love and support. My family is so small to begin with, and then with no family at all from your side, I just felt that it was unfair to deprive Baby H of a grandmother that would love her so much.

She knew as soon as she opened the door and saw me, all fat and nervous. I was right, she was very happy. She took me shopping for baby clothes. You should have seen her oohing and awing at all of the frilly outfits. We had so much fun fawning over everything girly. I feel bad, because I know she does not have the money to be spending on us, but she was insistent. We made a plan to see each other again around Christmas and then for her to come to the hospital when Baby H is born. After all my anxiety about seeing your mother, I am so very glad I did. It didn't sound like she has plans to see you over the holidays… She seemed a bit lonely.

I hope you have a good Thanksgiving, and that you have someone with whom to share it. I am sure you are finding plenty of beautiful South Beach blonds to occupy your time. My mother has invited me to accompany her to a friend's house. At least I will be able to get out of cooking anything and stay off my feet. I have learned that cankles are real and can happen to anyone, and they are oh so very not attractive.

Happy Turkey Day,

Dee Dee

xxx

December 16, 1989

Rick,

I'm in the home stretch now! My doctor is expecting Baby H to be rather large, but everyone who sees me can tell you that. I am pretty sure that I am now as wide as I am tall. She is not as active as she used to be, but she has the hiccups all the time. Did you know that unborn babies have hiccups? All of my friends have talked about it, and I have always wondered what it felt like. Now I know.

To be completely honest with you, I really never expected us to still be estranged by this point. I never intended to hope that you would change your mind about being a father, or at least having some sort of communication about Baby H, but I guess I have been anyway. I am starting to get really scared about my daughter never knowing her father. You are great man and I want her to know that. I want her to be proud of where she came from. I have been writing letters to her, as well. I started writing them about the same time I started writing to you, when I realized that you really were not going to acknowledge the pregnancy. I wanted her to know how much I loved her, from the very beginning of her existence. I never want her to question whether she was wanted, because she was always wanted. When she asks about her father and the circumstances around her conception, I want her to know how much we cared about each other. I want her to know that I love her father. That is not a typo, either. Deep down in my soul there is still love for you, at least there is for the man you were when you were in my life.

I have wanted her last name to be Hunter. I want her to be your child, to be a Hunter. That name is such an identity for you (more than just your surname), and in some way for me, too. Baby H's last name has been a big question for me. I do not want it to be McCall. I kept the name as a sort of memorial to Steve. For years after his death I felt like I was still his wife, that I was his forever. But then it became a sort of identity for me, as well. The problem is that I do not feel that it is my name to pass on. It is Steve's name, and Baby H is not Steve's baby. I have waited until the very last minute to do this, until I was sure you are not going claim her as your own - I changed my name back to Meyers, my maiden name, so that I can give it to Baby H.

Nine days until Christmas, and I am already looking forward to next year and Baby H's first Christmas.

Feliz Navidad,

Dee Dee

xxx

January 12, 1990

Rick,

Today is my due date. No baby yet, but I feel like she will be making an appearance soon. My mother is staying with me so that she can take me to the hospital when it's time. Hopefully we won't kill each other.

I am ready to get this over with. I am anxious about the birth, but I cannot wait to meet our daughter.

Dee Dee

xxx

January 20, 1990

Rick,

She is beautiful. Oh, Rick, she is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. I wish you could see her and hold her. You would fall in love with her just as much as I have. It was instant - I already loved her, but the moment I saw her for the first time I felt the most intense, unconditional love.

I named her Madison Grace. Madison means "gift." She is most definitely a gift. And Grace – I just really like the name.

Madison arrived two (agonizing) days late on January 14th at 2:36pm. She weighed 8lb 14oz. Yep, I gave birth to a nine pound baby, and I did it completely drug free. I am not sure I would make that same decision again, but it felt like the right one at the time and I lived to tell about it. So there you go. I wanted to feel her, I wanted to feel everything. Somehow, I imagined the pain of childbirth as part of my healing. It doesn't make sense, I know. Enduring the most unimaginable pain was proof to myself that I can handle anything. And I did it alone. My mother had been there with me, but when it came time to labor I asked her to leave. There was only one person I wanted there with me, and in your absence I had to do it alone. It was my battle to conquer. There was a freedom to it. I was able to let out my emotions, face the enormity of the whole situation and deal with it on my terms. The weight of your ghost consumed me. Your absence was deafening. I cried for us. I cried for what is lost. I cried for the little girl who will never know her father. I cried for the man who will never know the love of his child.

She looks like you. An angelic miniature Hunter with perfect skin and long eyelashes. Don't cringe, somehow she is still feminine and beautiful. Everyone sees it. I know they do even though no one acknowledges it. I can see it in their faces, I can see them biting their tongues not wanting to hurt my feelings. I just gave birth to your baby and they think that you are somehow not on my mind. Your mother sees it. She cried as she held Madison for the first time.

Madison and I are both doing (relatively) well. I am severely sleep-deprived, Madison likes to nurse pretty much all night long! Thankfully my mother is still here helping out. We are getting along surprisingly well. The days before Madison came were a bit hairy, but I will admit that I was probably not in the best mood and maybe just a little bit irritable (I WAS nine months pregnant, you know!). Since we have been home from the hospital, though, things have been fairly copasetic. I really thought my mother was going to hog Madison and that I would have to fight her just to hold my daughter, but this has not been the case at all. She has been really good at taking care of things around the house so that I can concentrate on caring for my baby myself. I don't know what I am going to do when she has to go home.

I am not sure I am going to be able to keep up with this girl's appetite! She has a McCall-sized appetite and seems to be on tract for a Hunter-sized body – what a combination! At her first doctor's appointment yesterday they checked her weight to make sure she was back up to her birth-weight. Well, our little piglet not only met her birth-weight but was two ounces over it.

I wish you could see the amazing and perfect life we created. I wish you could hold her in your arms and understand what it truly means to love selflessly, to look into the tiny blue eyes and know that there is nothing more important than her happiness. I wish you could know the joy she has brought me.

Dee Dee

xxx

February 14, 1990

Rick,

Contentment comes in the form of a warm, pudgy baby sleeping on your chest.

Madi is one month old today! I cannot believe how much she has changed in just four weeks! Her little personality has started to develop – she definitely has her favorite ways of being held and when she's hungry she makes sure everyone in a five-mile radius knows about it. She loves to move and test out her arms and legs, she hates being swaddled. I think she is going to be energetic and athletic like you.

This year I had the best Valentine's Day date ever. I got sweet cuddles and coo's, then my date fell asleep early and I got some mommy time (at least until she wakes up in three hours to nurse). I did have to buy my own chocolates, but at least I got to choose my favorites and I don't have to feel embarrassed about eating the whole box in one sitting.

My mother left a couple of weeks ago. I was glad to have my house (and my baby) to myself again, but the first few days were stressful. Madi and I have figured out a routine, though, and I am getting the hang of things. I am already dreading going back to work. I just do not see how I will ever be able to leave her with somebody else for an entire day, you know.

Happy heart day,

Dee Dee

xxx

March 9, 1990

Rick,

Madison gets more and more beautiful every day. She is smiling now. Real smiles, not the little smiles that everyone tells you is just gas. Her whole little face lights up and she coo's, you just can't help but smile back at her. She loves taking baths, just like mommy. I swear she would stay in her bathtub waving her hands back and forth in the water all day long if she could. I cannot wait to take her to the beach for the first time. She is going to love it.

I took her to the precinct for everyone to see. Even Esther and Jason came over from the DA's office. I have been stingy with sharing Madi by not inviting people to come over to visit her. Plus, I did not want a lot of people holding her and touching her and passing their germs. The visit was good, though. Everyone oohed and awed and talked about how adorable she is, of course. It's a different dynamic now, though. Like I have two separate identities. Maybe it's three identities now, since there has always been a difference between the person I am on the job and the person I am when I'm not carrying a gun and badge. Now I am also a mom, and that identity I am not able to hide from my professional world. At least I cannot hide it when Madi is with me. It was a little weird being there, at the precinct, surrounded by cops and being in mom-mode. It was like I was sharing a part of my personal life at a place where I had very carefully kept it hidden. I guess I also feel that everyone knowing that she is your daughter (there really is no way I can deny it, she still looks like a mini-Hunter), confirming that you and I did have a relationship outside of work, humanizes me in their mind.

Happy birthday. You are how old today? 43? Hope it is a good one. Do you remember last year? You had stopped celebrating your birthday years ago. I tried to tell you that they occur whether they are celebrated or not, but you usually try to ignore them anyway. Last year I wanted to do something different than what had become our tradition – the two of us at the birthday celebrator's house eating cake for dinner and watching a Clint Eastwood movie. I gathered up a few of your friends, which turned out to be a who's who of the LAPD, and we had a bonfire on the beach. We stayed out there most of the night drinking and swapping stories. I even got you a little bit drunk, which I never thought was possible. That night was fun, wasn't it?

Happy birthday my old friend,

Dee Dee

xxx

April 5, 1990

Rick,

Every day Madison is doing something new, it is all so exciting to watch this little thing become a person. She is rolling over now, I know it doesn't sound like a huge accomplishment but believe me it is! She has been practicing for a couple of weeks – every time I lay her down on her back she would put her feet in the air then throw them over to the side. She would just keep doing this over and over again. One day I laid her down on a blanket on the floor and went to get something from the kitchen, when I came back she was on her stomach. Scared me to death!

It turns out that Madi is quite the talker, too. Yes, yes, I know…just like mommy. She sits in her bouncer and "talks" for ten minutes straight! It's just a bunch of random noises, but she is trying so hard to have a conversation with me. It is the most adorable thing I have ever seen.

So far her eyes are still blue. Apparently their eyes can change color as late as two-years old. My mom swears mine started turning brown immediately, but Madi's eyes seem like they are getting bluer. Maybe she is going to have blue eyes like you. Her hair, what little bit she has, looks like it is going to be blond and curly. Curly hair – finally she's showing some sign that she really is my daughter!

You left a year ago today. A full year has gone by without you in it. It seems like only yesterday we were curled up on my sofa watching a Dodgers game. Sometimes I think I can still reach out and find you right there waiting for me. And yet at the same time it feels like my life with you was a million years ago. Everything has changed. I had to make a new life, one in which you are nothing more than a distant memory. I took all the pictures I have of you and placed them in Madison's baby book. The picture of us laughing and I am trying to keep your mouth shut, the one I had framed and sitting on my piano, I replaced it with a picture Madison. I no longer want any of them, maybe she will one day.

I go back to work on Monday. Dread does not even begin to describe what I am feeling.

Wish me luck,

Dee Dee

xxx

May 14, 1990

Rick,

Four months old today! Madi is holding her head up and laughing and rolling around all over the place. She loves it when I blow on her belly, she laughs so hard her little face turns reds. They should figure out how to bottle up baby laughs and give it out as an anti-depressant. There really is nothing better.

I put a mobile over her bed - it has little stuffed bears that go around while music is playing. It also has a mirror in the center. She loves watching the bears and giggles at them as they spin above her. Just recently, though, I have been catching her having very long conversations with the baby in the mirror.

Going back to work was even more difficult than I had imagined, and I imagined it being pretty terrible. Being apart from Madi for nine hours a day is just plain miserable. I hate it. I thought I would at least enjoy being around people again, adult conversation, reading something other than nursery rhymes but I don't. So when I get home in the evening all I want to do is spend time with Madi, but then there is also laundry and cleaning and bills to pay and all the things that you have to do as an adult. Also, in the beginning Madi did not want to take a bottle. She would refuse the bottle all day at day care, and then she would nurse all night long. I couldn't do any of those other things if I wanted. And then I wasn't getting much sleep, either. After two weeks I felt like I was dying. I was drained, physically and emotionally. I desperately wanted my mother to come back and help, but she had already been here with me for three weeks when Madi was born. She probably couldn't come stay with me again even if I asked. Your mother called to see how we were doing about that time. I tried my best to sound like I had it all together, but she could tell I was struggling. Let me tell you, your mother is a saint. She came and stayed with us for a week, helping out around the house so that I could concentrate on Madison. I really do not know how I would have gotten through the time without her. Plus, I just love watching your mother with Madi, she is a wonderful grandmother.

Things are getting better now, especially since Madi has decided to take the bottle. She is still happy and smiley most of the time, so I guess I am doing something right. I read somewhere that if you question or worry about whether you are being a good parent you are a good parent, the bad parents don't worry about being bad parents. If that is true then I should win Parent of the Year.

Dee Dee

xxx

June 15, 1990

Rick,

I was trying to write a letter every month on the 14th, but I missed it by one day. Five months old! Madison's first tooth came in! She is such a trouper. I hardly noticed anything until one night she was having trouble sleeping and did not want to nurse. The next morning I saw this little white thing sticking out of her gummy smile.

Madi is still a big baby. At her last doctor's appointment she was in the 95th percentile in height and weight (and head size…just like some else I know). She is only five months old and is already wearing 12-month size clothes! I think she is going to outgrow me before she's three!

I have been working on getting her acquainted to the piano. It's never too soon to start, you know! She loves to watch me play and then she pounds on the keys trying to imitate me. When she is two and I find her smearing peanut butter all over them I am going to regret this. Her favorite song is "Mary Had a Little Lamb" closely followed by Tchaikovsky's "Piano Concerto #1" (I'm not kidding!). Last month I worked on a case with Homicide and a Scotland Yard inspector on a string of prostitute murders. Each victim was found with a music box playing Braum's "Lullaby." I will never be able to play that piece for Madison again. It still gives me the creeps. The perp turned out to be a British Lord. Very interesting case.

Hope you are enjoying your summer,

Dee Dee

xxx

"It's a beautiful day today, ladybug. What do you think about going for a walk?" Dee Dee says rhetorically as she buttons Madison's onesie and throws away the soiled diaper she just changed. "Mommy was stuck at her desk all day, I think some fresh air and sunlight sounds wonderful." Madison giggles as her mother lifts her up in the air and showers her cheeks with kisses.

Summer has come on slowly over LA this year, making this mid-July evening feel more like spring. Dee Dee grabs her sunglasses off the kitchen counter before walking out the door, with Madison snug in her baby carrier. Even though she has been back at work for three months, Dee Dee still struggles with being away from her daughter the majority of the day. Being able to snuggle Madison while wearing her in the carrier just might be the real reason she is excited about taking walks. Additionally, she gets a chance to work at that stubborn baby-weight that just will not go away by carrying Madison's extra twenty pounds.

"Pop Goes the Weasel" seems to be Madison's choice of music for the stroll, and Dee Dee happily sings it between pointing out flowers and birds to her daughter. Madison's new interest in her surroundings reminds Dee Dee to slow down and smell the flowers, sort of speak. She is delighted when Madison notices a butterfly fluttering around them. Her little head bobs up and down and she watches it, while her chubby arms wave back and forth in excitement.

As the sun starts to set behind the hills, the two of them walk up her street heading for home. Dee Dee is talking to Madison, trying to make conversation about what they will be eating for dinner, but giggles as she realizes that Madison is otherwise occupied.

"Creating a present for me, are you?" Dee Dee muses and nuzzles the top of her daughter's head. She is halfway up her walk before she notices the lanky figure sitting on her stoop. Her heart stops as she gasps, unable to move or speak. There, sitting on her front porch, is Hunter.

_To be continued..._

_There have been multiple versions of this basic plot, but hopefully this is a fresh take on it. I have certainly enjoyed 'being' McCall for a while. Thanks for making it through the story this far!_


	3. Chapter 3

He stands up when he sees her. He had rehearsed what he going to say at least a million times over the past year. But seeing her there, live in the flesh his mind goes blank. She is even more beautiful than he remembered. Her dark hair is pulled back away from her face with a few stray curls falling down around her temples and he swears her checks are puffier than his recollection. It is her voice that he notices first. As he sat on her stoop waiting for her, he had let his mind wonder. What would she look like now? What is her life be like now? Had she fallen in love with a new man? What would he do if she had a new boyfriend, and he came home before she did? What if she didn't come home, maybe she stays at his place these days? But then he heard her voice, the tender sing-song tone he had heard countless times as she confronted an injured victim or a scared child, and his heart clinched. Oh, how he had missed that voice.

It does not occur to him in that moment to wonder who she is talking to. Once he sees her face time stands still. Their eyes lock and he notices the shock in her eyes…and then he sees it, the little head of blond curls sticking out of the black backpack-looking thing she is carrying. His eyes dart back and forth between those curls and Dee Dee's face, looking for some sort of explanation, as his brain tries to make sense of what he is seeing. She instinctively wraps her arms around her baby and gently caresses the back of its head. After a moment, she looks away from him and scans her surroundings as if trying to plan an escape. Eventually she takes a deep breath and closes the distance between them by half.

"What are you doing here?" She asks carefully as if she is testing her voice, and her nerve, her posture remaining in a protective position. He tries to speak several times, but his throat has dried up and the words just will not come out.

"I was finally able to come home." He blurts out before his voice fails him again.

She looks at him for a beat as if she does not understand the words. "Home," she repeats in a whisper unsure what 'home' is supposed to mean. It is when he sees her eyes brimming with tears, and look of fear on her face, that he realizes he better start explaining quickly.

"I've been in witness protection. I went undercover, but my cover was blown almost immediately and I have been hiding out ever since. The last of the drug-smuggling ring I was investigating was tried last week, so it was safe for me to come home." He can see her searching his face for tells and trying his explanation on for size.

"You said you were in Miami? You, you left for a job in Miami." Dee Dee says, working out the pieces of the puzzle in her head.

"No, Miami was a decoy," Hunter says. "Dee Dee, I am so sorry. I had to lie to you to make it believable. I was in a lot of danger and I didn't want to bring any of that on to you." He stops and lets these words hang in the air between them. Her eyes are darting back and forth, searching his face for truth, then looking away as she struggles to make sense of his declarations. She has moved close enough that he can see the baby's bright pink sleeves outlined in ruffles.

"Is she," he stops and has to take several breaths before trying again. "Is she mine?" Her eyes dark back to his and he swears he sees a flash of anger.

She squares her head and lifts her chin to meet him eye to eye before answering, "Yes."

He doesn't know what to do or say or how to feel. Emotion overwhelms him and he does not even notice that he's crying until wipes his hand across his mouth and feels the wetness on his cheek. His heart pounding like crazy in his chest is the only thing he can hear.

Dee Dee's posture softens as watches him deal with this information. "You didn't know?" she asks tenderly. He shakes his head in answer.

Madison whines in distress, bringing Dee Dee's attention back to her. She steps closer to stand next to him. "Um, I have to get her diaper changed. Why don't you come in?" Then she unlocks the door and leaves it open for Hunter to follow her inside.

He continues to stand there a few seconds, in too much shock to move. He eventually walks through the door into a place he's been to a million times, yet this time it feels completely foreign to him. He follows her voice down the hall into what must be the baby's bedroom. He stops in the doorway and looks around. He had helped her move into this house two years ago. Back then this bedroom contained a queen-sized bed and a dresser with a mirror, remnants of her marriage years before. He had also helped her move this bedroom furniture out of her room and into her guest bedroom at her previous house. There was also a time that her guest bedroom was something like a second home to him, but that was many moons ago. Now, the room contains a white crib and changing table and a pale yellow upholstered rocking chair. The pink walls are carefully decorated with wooden cutouts of bunny rabbits and black and white photographs of the baby. Above the crib, in pink and white lettering, is a large rectangular plaque that reads "Madison."

His attention turns to McCall, who is hunched over the baby on the changing table. She is playfully chatting to the baby while attending to her task, and the baby is smiling and cooing back at her. He nearly tears-up again at the sight – McCall obviously loves her daughter, their daughter he has to remind himself. He wonders why it surprises him that she is a good mother, of course McCall would be a good mother. She would be the best.

When she is finished, she picks up the baby and turns toward him. They stand there facing each other in silence and he gets to see his daughter's face for the first time. His knees almost give out on him as he recognizes her features as his own. When he realizes that she is waiting on him move out of the doorway, he shifts to the side to let them pass and then follows them into the kitchen. McCall busies herself placing the baby in a high chair, preparing a small bowl of baby food and sitting down in a kitchen chair opposite the high chair to feed the baby. The baby, who was content to bang a rattle on the high chair tray while her mother is preparing her dinner, eagerly accepts the green mush McCall feeds her.

"Her name is Madison Grace," McCall says breaking the silence at last. She tentatively glances backward to Hunter who is standing some distance behind her watching the scene in awe. "Madison means gift." He catches her insinuation and he wonders how many more times his heart can clinch before it stops beating all together. This is all too much to absorb.

"She takes after you, green beans are her favorite." He manages a smile at McCall's statement and moves closer to them.

"I take it that is what this scary-looking green stuff is?" He asks.

"Yeah, it's not as bad as it looks. I have a philosophy that I won't feed her anything I won't eat myself. I have even tested the prunes." She looks back at him again, and qualifies her statement before he can comment. "Don't worry, I'm not feeding her donuts and frozen fettuccine alfredo dinners." This time he is able to chuckle, thankful that there are at least a few things that haven't changed.

"Madison will go to bed at 7:30. If you want, I can make us dinner and we can talk."

"Uh, yeah, that sounds good." He replies.

McCall wipes off the baby's face, which is completely covered in pureed green mush, and picks her up. She makes an upward gesture toward him, in askance if he wants to hold Madison.

"Oh!" He says, surprised at her gesture. "Um, yeah, I'll take her." He's held plenty of babies in his time, but suddenly he does not know what do. Looking down into her vaguely familiar blue eyes, he takes her from McCall.

"There are some toys in the living room. She can sit up on her own if you want to sit on the floor and play," McCall suggests and he knows she must see the uncertainty on his face. He takes her advice and moves into the living room. He can hear McCall moving around in the kitchen, opening cabinets and setting pots on the stovetop and he wonders when she learned to cook. But for now, his attention is focused on this beautiful little wonder playing peek-a-boo with him. Every once in while he catches McCall watching him from the kitchen. He is not sure if the faint smile on her lips is real or his imagination.

After a while she joins them on the floor for a round of patty cake before swooping Madison up to get her ready for bed. Hunter follows them back to Madison's bedroom and watches McCall change her, wanting to see more of her and McCall before she goes to sleep. He realizes he is staring when McCall, who is now sitting in the rocking chair with the baby, gently asks him to leave so she can nurse Madison to sleep. Embarrassed, he leaves the room closing the door behind him, and wonders back to the living room. With the baby out of sight, he looks around his surroundings for the first time. He had expected her house to look exactly the same. Realizing that it was naïve to think her life would not have evolved over the past fifteen months, toys and a baby swing cluttering what was once an immaculate living room never crossed his mind. The framed pictures in her bookshelves and on her piano are also different. He is not quite sure what to think when he realizes all the picture of him are gone, being replaced by pictures of Madison. He jumps when he hears her voice from the kitchen.

"I hope spaghetti and meatballs and a salad are ok."

"It is great, thank you."

"It's, uh, homemade baked turkey meatballs, I will leave them off your plate if you prefer." She offers. He finds it odd how some things are have changed so much, and yet they seem to remember the details about each other.

"Homemade baked turkey meatballs?"

"Well, yeah, when someone else is depending on you as their sole source of nutrition you kinda have to change your habits."

"If you promise I won't die from food poisoning, I will give them a try."

"Well, no guarantees," and she giggles as she brings the food to the table.

They eat in silence for a few minutes. So many questions are running through his head he cannot decide which one to ask first. Finally he picks what seems like the most important. "So tell me about Madison."

She takes a deep breath before starting to speak. "Oh, well," she sighs, "I don't know where to begin." But then a grin spreads across her face, "She's amazing." Putting down her fork, she continues, "She is such a happy baby and has such a huge personality. I can't even remember my life without her." McCall continues to babble on about Madison's favorite toys and their trip to the zoo last weekend. The joy he sees in her as she talks about her daughter makes him smile. She has the same sparkle in her eyes that he used to see when she would talk about her late husband during the early years of their partnership.

"Did you know, when I told you I was leaving? Did you know you were pregnant?" He asks. Immediately her mood changes and sadness washes over her.

"No." She lets the word hang in the air as she stares at her hands in her lap. "No, it was a few weeks later. I, uh, I tried to call you. When I found out. I thought you would want to know."

"Of course I would want to know." He says and her head snaps up to look at him, but then she looks away before speaking.

"Charlie gave me a phone number for you in Miami. When you never returned my calls I left it on the answering machine. That I was pregnant." She slowly turns back to him as she whispers, "And you never called." The enormity of the situation hits him for the first time. He was just finding out that he is a father, but she had had a baby completely alone and believing he had deserted her and their child.

He quickly walks around the table to kneel beside her. Pulling her into an embrace he says the only words he can, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." She wraps her arms around him tight and let's go of fifteen months of pain. He pulls her tighter, kissing her temple over and over again as she cries.

Once her crying begins to subside, she apologizes in a hoarse voice for getting upset. He pulls back placing his hands under her face lightly to force her to look at him. "How could you really think I would abandon you?"

"How could I not?" she whispers.

"Setting up that phone number was entirely for your benefit." He closes his eyes and exhales in resignation. "We all new you would try to find me eventually. Obviously we never imagined this to happen."

"Charlie knew what was going on the whole time?"

"Yeah." He says with regret when he hears the hurt in her voice. McCall hates being lied to more than anything. "We both knew trying to keep you out of the situation and keeping you safe was going to be difficult."

She nods in understanding. It was true, she had thought about turning over heaven and earth to find him. She had priced airfare to Miami multiple times.

"Why don't you go compose yourself and I will clear the table?" He asks, having completely lost his appetite. She leaves the room, joining him on the sofa a few minutes later. The reprieve gave them both the opportunity to change the subject.

"You look good," Hunter says as she sits down on the opposite side of the sofa from him, tucking her legs under her and facing him.

"Oh, well," she laughs sarcastically, "I am quite a bit different than I used to be. I gave birth to a nine-pound baby, you know. I don't think I will ever be the same again. My bikini-wearing day are most definitely over."

"Whatever it is, it looks good on you."

Feeling sorry that she shot down his compliment, she concedes, "Thank you. You are looking good yourself. Very tan for someone that wasn't in Miami."

"Ha! It was hardly South Beach. I have been coaching middle school football in Amarillo, Texas."

"You gotta be kidding."

"Nope," He said with a grin. "And teaching the boy's health class."

"You were not teaching sex education to a bunch of impressionable kids?" McCall asks with grave concern.

"Ironic, isn't it?" Hunter says, and McCall laughs. "I'll tell you one thing, though, I discovered that I cannot stand twelve-year boys."

"That may come in handy some day when Madi is a twelve-year girl." Realizing she just made an assumption about his intentions toward Madison, she quickly moves on. "So, uh, what else did you do Amarillo?"

"A whole bunch of nothing. Turns out Amarillo doesn't have much going on besides football. Oh, well, I did have my hands full turning down the bored and lonely mothers of my players." And he winks at her.

"Hmmm, yes, I bet you were the best thing to pass through their town in a long time." She says raising an eyebrow.

"In all seriousness, I missed you." He says.

"I missed you, too. You said something about going undercover?"

"Yeah. Remember that case I had with what appeared to be an execution-style killing? My investigation led to what we thought was a small drug smuggling operation out of Arizona. Some new information had just come in and it looked like I had a really good opportunity to infiltrate the group. So I jumped on it. This was no small operation, turns out I was on the fringe of the largest drug ring seen in Southern California in ten years. I was in some seriously dangerous crap. Not even a week into it my cover was blown when I crossed paths with Sgt. Veytia."

"What? You were involved in whole Sergio Veytia scandal?" McCall is shocked. Sgt. Veytia had been another Homicide detective who was suspended a few months ago on drug and conspiracy charges. She knew that his trial had been in the news recently, but she had not been paying attention.

"The very same. I got swept up into Witness Protection, given all new identification and on a one-way flight to Canada within two hours. I hid out in a safe house there for a few weeks before my new 'life' in Texas was set up." He pauses for a moment, contemplating how to explain the rest of the story to her. "We knew Sgt. Veytia would be watching you for information on the case and my whereabouts. I wanted to tell you, but I couldn't risk your safety. The story had to be believable, and any indication from you that things weren't as being reported would jeopardize both of us. And if I didn't say anything I knew you would start digging into my case to figure out what was going on. The moment you did they would have come after you. So I called you from the airport in Canada with the only way I could think of to keep you away from the case, at least for a while. That was the hardest phone call I have ever had to make. I never wanted to hurt you."

"So you thought that if I was heartbroken, I would stay away from you and anything relating to you." She says as the story starts to make sense to her.

"That's right." Rubbing his hands over his face, he continues, "I was hoping that we already had enough evidence to start rounding up the low-level members of the ring, which would wind its way up through the chain of command and I would only be sequestered for a few months. My part in the investigation got thrown out to keep up the story of my disappearance, and the majority of the evidence with it."

"So what now?"

"I try to get my life back, whatever is left of it." His eyes get wide and he smiles as he thinks about Madison, "I guess I have a daughter to get to know. I would like to be a part of her life, if you want me to be."

"Yes, yes of course I do." She responds a little surprised at his immediate interest in being a father. "You know, I always thought you didn't want to be a father."

"I didn't." He leans back against the sofa trying to organize his thoughts on the subject. "Lookit, I never thought it was fair to choose to have a child while I had such a high risk career. Maybe I had just never dated a woman I could see myself marrying and changing my whole way of life to have family with her. And let's face it, I am well past my child-raring years at this point. But I didn't make this choice, she's here." He leans forward studying his hands for a long moment as if he's trying to make a decision. "I want to be her father." Looking up at McCall he repeats it more confidently, "I want to be her father."

McCall wipes away a tear and says, "I never gave up hope that you would be."

He reaches out his hand toward her and she holds it tightly. "I am sorry I couldn't have been here the whole time. For you. I have missed a lot." She nods, still holding on to his hand. "Madison Grace McCall, it's a pretty name. I like it."

"Oh, well, um, it's actually Meyers. Madison Grace Meyers."

He looks at her confused, so she explains, "It's my maiden name."

"Oh, right. But why Meyers?"

She takes a deep breath, steadying herself this conversation. "I changed my name back. It was time. I couldn't give her McCall - it wasn't my name to give her, you know. She wasn't Steve's kid, so it just seemed wrong."

"But that didn't bother you when you were trying to adopt that baby a couple of years ago."

"I know, but the situation was so different. For starters it was so sudden, and everything was happening so fast, I didn't have time to think about things like that. But, also, I didn't make that baby with another man."

"Yeah," he nods in acknowledgement.

Deciding to confess the truth, she closes her eyes and adds, "I wanted her name to be Hunter." She starts crying again. Laughing to herself as she wipes at the tears on her cheeks, she says, "I can't believe this can still make me cry. But she has always been a Hunter to me and I was sad that she never would be."

"She certainly looks like one, doesn't she?" He says amused. "It's almost shocking how much."

"Oh my goodness, you should have seen her when she was a newborn! She looked just like you! Her face changes all the time. I'm starting to see a little bit more of me in her now, or even a little bit of my mother, but when she was born she looked just like you, but bald." She jumps up from the sofa and runs over to a bookcase across the room. "Here, I have pictures."

She walks back to sit next to Hunter holding a pink photo album. The cartoonish images of kittens and butterflies on the cover makes him wonder at what point his hard-nosed, sophisticated partner had turned back into a little girl herself that she would buy such a childish album.

"The guys at the photo counter in the drug store around the corner know me by name. I think I have been in there every week since she was born." She says and he realizes that the twelve by twelve album is chock full of photos. Her face lights up again as she starts going through the pictures, and he finds it difficult to pull his attention away from her to look at them. It was this smile, this giggly, chatty woman that he had longed for while he was gone.

They continue looking through the pictures. He playfully goads her about her size when he notices a picture of her while pregnant, but he is overwhelmed by how much of McCall's life he has missed. For six years he never missed a birthday, a holiday, an accomplishment or a failure. These events that he missed over the past year have changed her and he hadn't been there to witness the changes slowly over time. To him they are sudden and strange.

He catches her trying to stifle a yawn and her eyes follow his as he checks the time on her grandfather clock behind them. It is nearly eleven o'clock.

"I have a chubby little alarm clock that goes off at two am and again at six, and I haven't been able to find the snooze button yet." She says, yawning again. "She's lucky she's so cute."

He chuckles, "I better let you get to bed then."

She walks him to the door, the silence between them suddenly awkward. He is reaching for the doorknob when she places her hand on his forearm. "Wait, come see," she says and takes a hold of his hand as she walks to Madison's room. She leads him over to the crib and looks down at the sleeping baby. "Isn't she beautiful?" She whispers so quietly he has to move so that his body is up against hers to hear her. McCall looks up at him waiting on him to agree, so he smiles back at her. "I love watching her sleep. She is so peaceful."

As they stand there watching Madison's mouth imitate sucking, her pink tongue just slightly sticking out of her red pursed lips, he wraps his arms around McCall and pulls her in for a hug. His mind is whirling, his stomach is in knots, but she is right. There is something peaceful about watching a sleeping baby and holding the woman you love.

They make plans for him to come back over the next evening so that he can spend more time with Madison, and he gives McCall a kiss on the cheek as he leaves. He barely remembers the drive home as he sorts through the events of the evening. He had imagined a million different scenarios for this reunion with McCall, but this was certainly not one of them.

Pulling up to his house he cannot even think anymore. It's times like these that McCall would be the only person he would want to talk to, the only person in his life that would answer her phone at this time of night and listen as he unloaded is problems. But McCall is part of the problem this time, instead of part of the solution. The only one he can talk to now is his mother. It is late, too late to call her, but he is not sure he can make it through the night without talking to someone.

He had spoken to his mother the night before, as soon as he had gotten home from Amarillo. She had not said anything about Madison. In fact, he now remembers that the only thing she had mentioned about McCall was that he needed to talk to her as soon as possible, which was his plan anyway. Looking through McCall's photos he had seen his mother there holding her granddaughter. He wanted to ask McCall about it, but he couldn't decide how he felt about his mother knowing about his daughter before he did. That was probably selfish on his part, everybody probably knows. McCall had not offered to explain either, leaving him to wonder if she was just as unsure about what he would think on the matter. He was now wondering if his mother had known back when he had made that risky phone call to her while he was in witness protection. He had been gone four months at that time, much longer than he had ever expected, and he knew the only other person besides McCall that might cause a problem if he didn't return home soon was his mother. She might even get McCall involved if she was worried enough. So he made a calculated risk to call her, providing her with enough information to keep her quite until he was able to return. Did she know then that Dee Dee was pregnant? What would he have done if she had told him? He was thankful that she was a smart lady, and knew him inside and out. If she knew that McCall was pregnant, not telling him was probably the smart decision. He cannot guarantee that he would have been able to stay in hiding, which would have placed all of them in the line of danger.

He walks into his house, somehow feeling lonelier than it did earlier that day. Without turning on a single light he heads straight to his phone and dials her number.

"Hello?"

"Hi Mama."

"Ricky! It's late! Is everything okay?" He is 43 years old and his mother still calls him "Ricky." He is beginning to understand, after watching McCall talk about Madison all night, that your baby can grow up but they will always be your baby.

"Mama, I have a daughter."

"Yes, you do, honey."

_To be continued..._


	4. Chapter 4

As agreed, he spent the next evening with McCall and Madison. To lighten McCall's load, he brought dinner with him and cleaned up the kitchen while she rocked Madison to sleep. He had spent over an hour on the phone with his mother the night before, talking about everything from his fear of being a parent to his feelings for McCall, and of course how adorable Madison is. One piece of advice she had given him, among several, was to help McCall with the small things. She pressed the idea that life has been hard for her without him and he needed to start taking some of that weight off her shoulders. She had practically been a single mother herself, with his father barely ever home and no patience for dealing for with a kid when he was.

He spent the entire evening playing with his daughter and learning how to care for her. McCall laughed her way through a diaper changing lesson after Madison's diaper leaked all over his favorite blue t-shirt, and he was surprised to discover that she still had a few of his things tucked away in the back of her closet – including a brown plaid button-down shirt that she admitted to sleeping in while she was pregnant, claiming she did not want to spend a lot of money on maternity clothes. Neither of them could remember when or why that shirt got in her possession in the first place. He helped feed Madison dinner, squash this time, and gave her a bath, which turned out to be the highlight of the night. He never imagined something as simple as giving a baby a bath could be fun, but watching her squealing and splashing in the tub made him laugh. Seeing McCall smile at his enjoyment was nice as well.

After putting Madison to bed they continued their conversation from the night before. McCall told him about her pregnancy and her new job. He told her more about his life in Texas and shared stories from his coaching and teaching experience. They both agreed that their priority for the time being was for him to build a relationship with Madison, and for him and McCall to figure out their relationship as co-parents. Any relationship beyond that could be sorted out later. McCall's first and foremost priority is her daughter, and so he followed suit.

Hunter was glad he had made the decision to not go back to work until Monday, giving himself several days to get his house and finances in order. He had left so suddenly and under false pretenses that he had not been able to make arrangements for paying his bills and caring for his house. Everything was a pretty big mess, but at least he still had a home. His mother had been able to save his beach house from foreclosure, by way of borrowing money from his uncles. He needed to rectify that as soon as possible. The time off also gave him plenty of time to consider his future and where McCall and a child fit into it.

Monday morning came hard and fast. He knew it was going to be a rough day when his drive in to Parker Center was different than he remembered. New office buildings and apartments were under construction, businesses had changed names and old buildings had been demolished. His favorite French restaurant for taking dates he wanted to impress is now a Mexican cantina. It was the normal urban evolution that occurred every day without much notice, but it was jarring when it happened to you all at once.

Walking into the Homicide squad room is even stranger. Sitting at his desk is a clean-cut, cocky detective who looks to be about 25 years old, reminding him that the new detectives get younger and younger as he gets older and older. Sitting across from him at McCall's desk is a middle-aged cop he vaguely remembers from Hollenbeck Robbery division, although he was uniform officer back then. Hunter scans the room for familiar faces, finding Rodriguez who lifts his chin in recognition as he continues his phone conversation.

"Hey Hunter!" Finally a familiar voice. Hunter turns to find Charlie standing in the doorway of his office. "Looks a little different around here, doesn't it?"

"You aren't kidding." He follows Charlie into his office and takes a seat in the well-worn wooden chair and takes comfort that at least the chair is the same.

"Welcome back. How's it going?" Charlie asks, and Hunter knows exactly which topic Charlie is asking about. They had debriefed over lunch the day after his return to LA, but Hunter kept the conversation entirely professional. His head and emotions had been a mixed-up, mushy mess after seeing McCall and Madison for the first time the night before.

Hunter takes a deep breath and blows it out slowly before responding, "It'sa, well, it's all pretty strange." Charlie nods in understanding. "She's a cute little thing, though, isn't she?"

"Yeah, she is. You should be a very proud papa." Charlie smiles while trying to nudge Hunter in the right direction.

"I am. I have been spending as much time with her as I can. McCall even let me babysit while she went out for a pedicure Saturday afternoon." Charlie's eyebrows lifts in surprise.

"That's good! I would imagine that is the first time she has done anything for herself since Madison was born." Charlie says.

"McCall's a good mother, isn't she?" Hunter asks again, for some reason feeling the need to confirm his feelings with someone who has been with McCall while he was gone.

"Yes, she is. Ms. _Meyers_ loves that baby very much." Charlie says, reminding Hunter that McCall is no longer McCall.

"Right." Hunter says as he turns to look out the window into the unfamiliar squad room that used to be more home to him than his house. "Right."

"Listen, I got a desk for you in the back and some cold cases for you take a look at. Get your feet wet. Ease you back in to things. Promotions are coming up in two months, I need to you take the lieutenant exam."

Snapping his attention back to Charlie, Hunter says, "I took that exam two years ago, and passed."

"It was three years ago, and you turned down the promotion to stay partnered with Dee Dee." Charlie says with sympathy. "Your eligibility has expired, and I think it's time you started moving up the ladder. I need a lieutenant and I'd prefer it be you. You also need to pass physical and psychological exams before I can put you on active duty."

"Yeah, got it." Hunter says as he walks out of Charlie's office to locate this empty desk in the back.

"I'm available if you need talk." Charlie calls after him, but Hunter isn't listening. Halfway through the squad room he stops and turns.

"Hey, Charlie! Where's my stuff?"

"Hmm, I don't really know. Try calling Dee Dee, she cleaned out your desk." Hunter starts to take a step, but then realizes he has no idea where her desk is or her phone extension. He suddenly feels completely lost, unsure that he will be able to manage the day without McCall's help. "Here," Charlie says as he holds out a pale yellow post-it note, "her phone number."

"Thanks." He walks over to what he assumes is supposed to be his desk and dials the number from the post-it note.

"Dee Dee Meyers," she answers.

"McCall, I'm looking for my stuff."

It is a huge relief to see her smiling face walking toward him a few minutes later. She is carrying a large box and is being following by what looks like a young boy carrying a similar box. He is thankful to find out that this boy is a freshman criminal justice major doing a summer internship in McCall's division. The rookies haven't gotten that young, at least.

"Here you go! I had left them in a supply closet up on the fifth floor, unsure what else to do with them. Glad they finally get to make their way back to you." She sets the box on the corner of his desk and smiles up at him. "This should be everything, except I swiped that bag of M&Ms I found hidden in the back of your file drawer." She waves a finger in his direction playfully scolding him, "All those years you were holding out on me."

"Yes, well, look what happened the moment you found them." He rebukes and she rolls her eyes in mock annoyance.

She places a hand on his arm and says, "Hey, are you okay?"

He looks around the squad room at all the new faces and different seating arrangement before looking back at her, "Everything's different."

Squeezing his arm she agrees, "You were gone a long time." She points to the files on his desk, "What are those?"

"Do you remember a Reynolds case back in '86?"

"No."

"Me either, but our names are all over the reports. Looks like we suspected the victim's son, but never found enough evidence to arrest him. Charlie has me working old cases until I'm cleared for active duty."

"That's just what you need right now, having to look back at all your failures." She says thumbing through the file.

"Hey know, this was your case, too." He says.

"No, I meant…" She fumbles for words trying to backtrack.

"I know, I'm just messing with you." He laughs and she pokes him in the ribs with her elbow.

"Well, I better get back to work. I'm on the third floor if you need a friend, okay?"

"Yeah, okay, thanks."

Watching her walk away, to a new desk and new job on a different floor, is like watching the end of an era. He has to tamp down the urge to run after her and beg her not to go. The hardest part of this whole situation is that he is just now realizing that era ending, but everyone else witnessed it months ago and has already moved past it. For him it is almost like a nightmare.

The following weeks were some of the most tiring Hunter had known. He passed his physical fitness and psychological exams, and got back on active duty. He had less than two weeks to prepare for the lieutenant's exam, and still managed to see Madison for at least an hour most days. If he was lucky he got to spend a few minutes with McCall, too, but most of the time he was too tired or had too much studying to do to stay after Madison went to bed. He wasn't sure that McCall didn't prefer it this way. She was friendly and caring, as always, and in full support of his time spent with their daughter, but she was distant in a way he had never known before.

One such evening, Madison is in an unusually fussy mood. She wants her mother, and Hunter is a vastly inferior substitute. So as McCall walks around the house bouncing Madison on her hip and singing nursery rhymes, Hunter cooks dinner and takes care of the dishes afterward. When McCall finally gets Madison to sleep, an hour later than normal, Hunter has a steaming cup of raspberry tea waiting for her. They are both tired and stressed, but they have not spent a moment alone together in at least a week. He welcomes the quiet comfort of her home. He had always liked it at her place, all three of the ones she has lived in since he's known her. They were each very different, but had the same neat, pretty and homey feel so unlike his cluttered and mismatched bachelor pad. He is also enjoying the warmth of her lounging on the sofa next to him.

They sit in companionable silence for a while, McCall eventually breaking the peaceful reprieve with questions about his cases. The conversation progresses, each catching the other up on the daily happenings of their lives, until they hear Madison's distressed cry from the other room. McCall emerges from Madison's room a few minutes later with a fussing baby and worried look on her face.

"She has a fever. Her forehead is burning up."

"What do we do? Should we go to the ER?"

"No, I don't think so, but she's never been sick before," McCall says sounding more unsure than her words. "Can you help me take her temperature and give her some Tylenol?"

It takes both of them, and two attempts, to hold Madison down long enough to get all the Tylenol into her mouth – the first try ending with more of the medicine on McCall's shirt than in the patient after Madison spit it all out. Hunter feels useless as he just sits and watches McCall pace the house trying to calm down the sick baby. When he realizes that it has been quiet for a while, he goes searching and finds the light on in McCall's bedroom with the door cracked open. He slowly peeks into the room, finding McCall laying on the bed nursing Madison who is lying on the bad next to her.

"Oh! I'm so sorry, "he says startled and quickly backs away from the door.

"Wait!" She whispers. "I don't mind if you want to come in." He stands in the doorway a moment unsure how he feels about the situation. The whole breastfeeding thing is uncomfortable for him. He finds it extremely disturbing that his head is suddenly flooded with the memories of how she tasted and felt in his mouth. He prays that McCall does not notice his jeans becoming ever tighter. _This is a natural part of life_ he keeps repeating to himself. Finally, he decides to enter, lying down on the bed so that he is facing McCall with Madison between them. He is thankful that he cannot actually see anything with the way McCall's shirt is draped across Madison's face.

"She looks so peaceful now." He says as he works up enough courage to rub the back of his finger along Madison's head. "I thought you only did this once a day?"

"Twice, at bedtime and when she wakes up in the morning. At least, that has been our schedule since I went back to work." McCall answers, watching Madison instead of looking at him. "I don't think she's actually getting anything, it's just comforting for her."

"Does…does it hurt?" He's curious, but not sure how open she is going to be.

"Not anymore." She says without offering any additional information. From his point of view she has everything figured out, that everything is perfect and happy between her and Madison, but this is not the first hint that motherhood has not always been rosy for McCall and he wonders exactly how rough some of these times have been. She says it doesn't hurt anymore, meaning it did at some point. He imagines a sleep-deprived McCall, sitting in this very same spot on her bed, crying through the night because she has a starving and whaling newborn baby but it hurts too much to feed her and she has no one there to help her out, no one to call that will encourage her and tell her it will all be okay. His eyes tear up as he silently curses the universe for causing her pain.

"How do you always know what to do?" He asks.

She thinks for a moment before answering. "I read a lot of books while I was pregnant, but mostly I'm just guessing." She laughs a little. "You just know, after spending time with them and paying attention you learn what they like, what calms them, when something is wrong, you just know."

"I don't think I will ever 'just know.'"

"What?! You are doing great! It just takes time, and you will get there." As she is talking she very carefully pulls back from Madison, who is now sound asleep, and rights her clothes. Madison rolls onto her stomach with her diapered bottom sticking up into the air, all the while continuing to make wet sucking noises. Hunter gently pats her back. "You are an expert at judging people's character, anticipating their movements, knowing what they are going to say even before they do. That's why you are such a great cop, and this is the same thing. Once you relax it will come to you."

"I don't know, she's happy with me when we are playing and when I have food for her and all that, but tonight she wanted nothing to do with me."

"I think that would have happened even if you had been here the whole time. There is just something special about mommy when you don't feel good." He allows her that point, he still runs to his mother when all else fails. There _is_ something special about mothers.

"I always wondered if I could ever be attached to a child. I mean, I like kids. I've had cases where a child was involved, you know as a witness or injured during the crime, and I have cared about those children. I wanted to protect them and make sure they were taken care of. But I never had a desire to be that person to actually do the taking care. Not like you have. I guess I always worried that I wouldn't feel any different if it was my own kid. That I wouldn't attach myself to them."

"And is that how you feel now?"

"No," he answers quickly with an air of surprise. "I won't say it was immediate, my immediate feeling was nothing but fear and shock." He looks at McCall when she quietly laughs at his admission. He smiles, too, remembering that first night that he saw Madison. "But the overwhelming need to see her and hold her and make her happy came as soon as the initial shock wore off. I am still surprised at how quickly I fell in love with her, how quickly nothing else really seemed to matter anymore. It's all about her." She reaches over Madison to squeeze his arm, and he realizes that she is fighting back tears. He covers her hand with his.

"You have no idea how much I prayed that you would love her someday," McCall says, taking a deep breath in an attempt to control her emotions. "It hurt, you know, that you might never experience this." She pauses again, trying very hard to keep control. "She's a very lucky girl to have you as a father."

"Oh, well, I think you give me too much credit." He says and her pillow rustles as she shakes her head no. "So how about you? When did you first fall in love with her?"

"Oh, well….pretty much the moment I saw the positive pregnancy test." They both laugh at this, and he is not at all surprised. "But I think it's different for women than men. I felt it. It wasn't just an extra blue line on a stick - I felt my body changing, even that early, and I knew from that moment on I wasn't alone anymore. My life was suddenly, completely devoted to this other little being."

"I wish I could have been there." He whispers, not sure that this statement is entirely true. At times he is scared of how he might have reacted if he had been there in the beginning facing an unplanned, and on his end, an unwanted pregnancy.

"I have imagined that scenario a million times," she whispers back and he can feel that she is scared of the same thing.

"I wish I could have been there for everything."

"Me, too." They lay there still watching Madison's back rise and fall with her breath, and he realizes that the last time he was in this room and on this bed was the very moment she was created. McCall's voice interrupts his thoughts, "do you mind staying with her for a few minutes while I get a shower?"

"No, go ahead. Take your time." The last thing he remembers is hearing the water running in her bathroom and smelling the floral scent of her shampoo.

When McCall emerges from the bathroom, both Hunter and Madison are quietly snoring on her bed. She gently removes Hunter's shoes and covers him with the quilt from the foot of the bed. Then she slips under the sheets on the other side of Madison.

XXXX

His lieutenant's exam was on a Tuesday morning, afterward he met McCall for lunch. He wanted a chance to talk her on a more neutral ground, and now that his exam was over he could turn his attention back to his personal life. Having lunch out, or any meal out with another adult, was rare treat for McCall. He even let her pick the restaurant, and she chose Chinese, of course.

"So, how do you think you did? Will we be calling you Lt. Hunter next month?" McCall asks, breaking open a fortune cookie. She always snacks on fortune cookies before the meal arrives like you would chips at a Mexican restaurant.

"Aced it, no sweat." He says with a grin, snatching a fortune cookie from her stock pile. "So what is your fortune?" She pulls out the thin slip of paper from the cookie and reads it to herself. She smiles for a second before clearing her throat.

"It says…." She pauses for effect, "A special person from your past will return to you." She looks up at him and raises an eyebrow.

"That is not what it says," he says and reaches across the table to grab the fortune out of her, but she pulls it back out of his reach.

"You don't believe me?" She says feigning offense.

"So which ex-boyfriend of yours are you expecting to make a reappearance?" He says deciding to play her game.

"God, I hope none of them," and she shivers at the thought.

"Lookit, I asked you to lunch to talk to you about us. I know we agreed to focus on Madison for a while, but, I guess, I want to know where we stand." Hunter says more to his hands folded on the table in front of him than to McCall. When she doesn't respond right away, he decides to just lay it all out. "I still love you. I would like to try to pick up where we left off." He sneaks a peak at her face to catch her reaction.

She sits back in her chair and closes her eyes as she slowly nods her head. It is a very long second before she speaks. "I never stopped loving you," she whispers and opens her eyes so that he can see she means it. "But for fifteen months I lived with the idea that you had rejected me, and our child."

He cuts her of, "Oh, but that's not true."

"No, I know. But that doesn't take away the fact that it was my reality for all those months. I guess… I guess logically I know it's not true, but emotionally it's going to take me some time to trust again. I allowed myself to open up to you back then, and I felt punished for it."

He squints looking off in the distance, thinking about her words. She did not trust him. "Coming back home to you is what kept me going while I was gone."

She nods her head, letting him know she understands. "I would like to be family, for Madi's sake, but I think it's best to take things slow."

"I don't think you are hearing me." Her eyes widen at his sudden bluntness. "I want to be a family for Madison, sure, but what I'm telling you is that I want you. Not because we have a child, but because I love you."

She reaches out her hand to hold one of his. "I love you, too. I just need a little more time."

Grabbing on to her hand tightly, "Okay, some more time. I can do that. But…"

"But?"

"But I can't wait forever. You lived with the memory of me dumping you all this time," he leans forward to get as close to her as possible, "but I lived with the memory of making love to you. I've already waited an awfully long time to do it again."

She blushes a little and smiles. "I've lived with _that_ memory, too, you know," she admits and he sits back in his chair with a satisfied grin.

They continued with the same routine as before, spending the evenings after work together with Madison when their schedules allowed and occasionally having dinner together after she went to sleep. He didn't press McCall again about restarting a romantic relationship, but he was encouraged when she gave him a small kiss one night as he was leaving. She was the ultimate prize, he kept telling himself, but if she continued at this snail's pace it just might kill him.

All that time he spent alone while in witness protection had given him an opportunity to evaluate his life. He had always felt happy and content with his life. He loved his job, being a cop was as much a part of who he was as his eyes being blue. Being a homicide detective was the cherry on top of an already pretty great sundae. There were times that his love, or dare he admit obsession, of his job overtook his life and he was mostly okay with this. As long as he was doing what he loved, it wasn't a problem. The problem was this: was he okay with the job being his life because McCall was right there with him. He loved dating beautiful women. He highly enjoyed the flirting, the chase, the wooing of a smoking hot blond who could have her pick of any man. And occasionally these trysts turned into something more - he was never against relationships as long as they continued to be fun and stayed largely out of the way of his professional life. But when life got real and he needed someone he could trust, he always turned to McCall. He started to worry a few years ago when he realized that he didn't mind when the job was his entire life, especially the times when neither him nor McCall were capable of maintaining a dating life because of it, because McCall became the woman in his life. They leaned on each other during those times, even spending what little personal time they had with each other because they had no one else. Or maybe it was because nobody else could possibly understand the psychological strains they dealt with on a daily basis.

He does not remember when he fell in love with McCall. It happened so slowly that it just was. He had known it for years, but had been content with the relationship as is. Before McCall, he thought he had been in love. There had been women that he had considered himself in love with, women with whom he had considered a future. He cared about them, wanted to spend more and more time with them, and even endured the struggles and arguments that happen during committed relationships to keep the relationship going. When those relationship ended he had even been sad. But then there was McCall, a woman he absolutely could not live without. A woman that he would risk his own life to save hers. He could easily put aside his own needs and comfort to make her whole again. He would go to the jungles of South America and kill a man to avenge her honor. He would do anything to keep her in his life and to see her smile. That was love.

Before he had gone under cover, the months before, he had begun having thoughts about what his life would be like if she was more than his friend and partner. He had watched her be in a relationship with Jason just a few months before. She had dated over the years, even had a short-term boyfriend here and there. He had met them all. He was like an older brother that she paraded in front of them letting them know _you mess with me he will mess with you_. Mostly, however, they were insignificant and she was usually the one that ended the relationships. Jason, however, had been significant in a multitude of ways. First off, he had a front row seat to the daily happenings of their encounters since they all three worked together. Second, Jason lasted longer than the rest. Third, he was the only one that she truly fell for – he made her smile and blush like a school girl. Hunter once found her notes from a witness interview with interlocking hearts up and down the margins. McCall was not a heart-drawing, starry eyed, love sick kind of woman – at least she had never been before. The threat of her leaving him to marry Jason seemed eminent and it scared him beyond belief. He also found himself jealous of her affection toward Jason. Jealousy was an emotion he had never felt before and he did not like it. After their breakup Hunter found himself wondering what it be like to be the receiver of her affection, to be able to love her up close and openly.

He spent months dissecting his feelings for McCall and what kind of relationship he wanted with her, and wondering how she felt about him. He knew she wanted a husband and kids, and she had told him years ago that he was not eligible for the position. He never did decide if he wanted to be anyway. Back then he had wanted a relationship, but he had not thought much beyond taking her to bed and making her breakfast the next morning. Then the Grinaldo case happened, and the thought of losing McCall with nothing but a bunch of what if's between them pushed him to take the risk. He told her how he felt and to his amazement she felt the same.

The undercover operation could not have come at a worse time. He had been working this case for weeks and had been looking for way to infiltrate the organization he had been investigating for drug trafficking. Just such an opening happened that Monday after the weekend he and McCall had spent together. He had to take it, and he was certain McCall would understand. He had been confident that he would have enough information and evidence to start making arrests in a few weeks. When his cover was blown after just a few days, his primary concern was keeping McCall safe at whatever cost. And it had cost him dearly. Every day he was gone he grew more confident that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. He just had to wait until it was safe to find his way back to her. When he finally did, he discovered that it was not as simple as that. Now he is still waiting for the time that he can be with her.

He was serious when he told McCall he wanted to co-parent, now it was time to prove it to her. He bought a crib, some toys, a high chair, diapers and more clothes than Madison would ever be able to wear. Then he invited McCall and Madison to spend the weekend with him.

They arrived Friday evening just in time for dinner, for which Hunter had prepared a simple salad with fresh vegetables and grilled salmon he had picked up at the market earlier that day. He led them to his guest room, showing off the crib complete with sheets, blankets and stuffed toys. McCall shared her tragic tale of the weekend-long crib assembly while she was pregnant. Again and again he felt this odd combination of sorrow that she had had to endure all these experiences alone, and admiration that she had faced these obstacles head on and overcame them. This was a character trait that he had always loved about McCall, her perseverance and strength.

They ate dinner together, all three of them, and then McCall agreed to do kitchen duty while Hunter bathed Madison and got her ready for bed. After McCall got her to sleep, she joined Hunter in the living room. Sitting against the arm of the sofa and stretching her legs across the cushions, her feet just touching the side of Hunter's legs, she let out a heavy, fatigued sigh and closed her eyes.

"I have a bottle of wine chilling in the fridge, would you like a glass?" Hunter offered.

"Oh, that would be lovely. I haven't had a glass of wine since," she stops and thinks a moment, "wow, it must have been the night Madison was conceived."

He disappears to the kitchen for a few minutes before returning with two glasses of white wine. He hands McCall a glass, then pulls her feet into his lap as he sits down.

"McCall," he starts but then quickly realizes his mistake, "I'm sorry, I guess I have to stop calling you that now."

She laughs, "It's okay, I think the majority the precinct doesn't even realize I changed my name. Everyone still calls me McCall. I don't mind, really. Except," she takes a sip of wine while looking at him over the top of her glass, "I've always kinda liked it when you call me Dee Dee. It was like it was code for 'this is something specifically personal.'"

"I distinctly remember the conversation that occurred around the same timeframe as your last glass of wine, where you pointedly asked me to never call you McCall in bed." He snuck a sideways peek at her to catch her reaction. They had talked about a lot of things, but they had never actually talked about that weekend before he left, beyond the acknowledgement that Madison was the byproduct.

"Hmm, yes, in that situation I most definitely wanted to know that you to saw me as a woman and not as your partner." She pauses for a moment, unsure how far she is willing to take the conversation. "Besides, hearing you say my name was a little bit sexy." His hands, that were gently massaging her feet, suddenly freeze. She wiggles her toes in an effort to get him to continue.

"So what were you going to say before, when you called me McCall?" She says with a most innocent expression.

"I, uh, I don't even remember." He says and she hides a grin by taking another sip.

He watches her as she very deliberately places her glass on the coffee table, stands up and holds out her hand to him. The sparkle in her eyes and the playful grin on her lips tells him that she has a plan, a very fun plan. He takes her hand and she pulls him toward her as she slowly walks toward the stairs. She never lets go of his hand, taking him up the stairs and into his bedroom where she finally turns to face him and pulls his head down until their lips meet. She kisses him hard, almost desperate, and he is lost in the sensation of her.

He pulls back with a struggle, breathing heavy, "This was not my intention when I invited you here."

"Ssh," She answers and plants a gentle kiss on his chin, the only place on his face she can reach without his help. "I think we have waited long enough."

He groans into her mouth kissing her back with the same desperation. Without breaking the kiss he nudges her toward the bed so that he can sit down, evening out the height difference. She willingly allows him to pull her against him between his legs, wrapping her arms around his head and running her hands through his hair. They kiss and touch and murmur phrases of love and longing, clothes flung around them in a semi-circle on the floor.

"You're so beautiful." He whispers as his hands softly run down her sides and over her hips.

"I'm different. Than before." She says, her lips moving against his temple and a finger tracing the other side of his face.

"You're better. I like the curves," and he grabs her hips, grinding them into him, for emphasis.

She giggles, "I can feel that."

"I make no promises," he starts to say, but she reaches down between them and he nearly loses his mind. "Aaahhh…you feel so good…and it's…been…long time…"

"I'm not worried," a wicked smile emerges as she continues, "There's always next time, and the next time and the…." She breaks into giggles again as he flings her onto the bed and covers her body with his.

They lay in bed, McCall draped over him. His senses are filled with her fingers gingerly toying with his chest hair, the smell of sweat and her perfume, and the faint notes of a lullaby wafting down the hall between crashing waves on the beach. The only thing he missed more than McCall while he was in Amarillo was hearing the sounds of the ocean.

"Marry me." He says, more like a statement than a question, her hand freezing on his chest. She slowly lifts herself up onto her elbow to look down at him.

"You're not serious, are you?" She asks suspiciously.

"As a heart attack," he says, brushing her hair behind her ear. "Marry me."

"This is…this seems fast."

"Look, I've known for years that I cannot live without you. While I was gone I realized just how much I wanted you by my side. Forever." He admits while he watches her expression soften. "I was planning on proposing to you when I returned, before I ever knew that we had a baby." Hunter rolls out of bed and rummages through a dresser drawer. He returns to her side and holds out a black velvet box.

"I bought this in Amarillo….over a year ago. I even had it with me when saw you the first time after I came home, I guess that was a little naïve. Or maybe it was presumptuous, to think that you would be there waiting for me with open arms. In any event, as soon as I saw Madison I completely forgot about this ring burning a hole in my pocket."

She timidly reaches for the box, "Can I?" She asks, placing a finger on it.

"It's yours." He says, placing the box in her hand. "I was just waiting to find out if you still felt the same way about me as you did before I left." He smiles broadly at her gasp when she opens it. The one carat marquis diamond mounted high above a band of channel set diamonds twinkles in the moonlight cascading through the blinds.

"It's beautiful." She says, her eyes wide as she looks up at him.

Placing the ring on her finger, he runs the tip of his finger on the underside of it, memorizing the feel of it on her hand. "So say yes," and he kisses her forehead.

"Yes," she whispers to her hand. Shifting her head up, she says yes again as her lips meet his.

_Not over yet...epilogue to follow..._


	5. Chapter 5

Epilogue

July 10, 1992

Rick,

What an amazing two years it has been! And two very busy years they have been! I came across these letters today while cleaning out our extra bedroom. You were so kind to take Madi to the park so that I can (finally) start working on a bedroom for Baby Hunter #2. I only have three more months before his arrival! I guess I stuck this journal with all the letters in it in my desk at some point and completely forgot about them. But as soon as I saw them I felt compelled to sit down and write one more letter to you. Maybe I will even let you read them now, if you want to.

You have made me the happiest woman alive. I love you with all of my heart and I am so proud to be your wife. The life that we have created together is everything I ever wanted and more. For years I thought that I had to make a choice between you and a having family. I chose you three years ago, possibly forsaking the husband and children I had always longed for. It is a dream come true to have both. Our marriage isn't perfect, you are not a perfect husband, and I am certainly not a perfect wife, but I love that we get to figure this life out together, arguments and frustrations and all.

After Steve's death I thought that I would never truly love again. I wanted to marry again, but I had assumed that I would have to settle for something less. After we became partners, I definitely never imagined that you would ever be the "one" for me. Somehow you worked your way into my life and into my heart. What I feel for you is something more than love, you are a part of me.

Our wedding was beautiful, mostly because I am the woman that finally got you to say 'I do.' Ha! I cannot believe that I let you talk me into a beach wedding instead of a church, but it turned out so beautiful and so perfect that I didn't even mind when Madi was covered in sand from head to toe by the end of the ceremony. I am also thankful that you talked me into leaving Madi with your mother so that we could have a true honeymoon. Being away from her for four days was terrifying, but spending the time alone with you was worth every second.

I am amazed every day at what a wonderful father you are to Madison. She loves you dearly and it brings me such joy watching the two of you together. For a man that never wanted children you certainly took to fatherhood quickly, and it looks very good on you. I am still in shock that we are having another baby, and that it was all your idea. Sharing this pregnancy with you has brought closure for me, a sort of healing for the raw emotions I felt from your absence last time. It really is a boy this time and I cannot wait to meet my little Hunter. I am also blessed to be able to stay home with this baby and pack up my years with the LAPD. Sure, there will be times that we struggle with only one paycheck, but when your Captain's salary kicks in next month it will hurt a little less.

Can you believe that the LAPD is really promoting you to Captain?! My my how things have changed since the days when they were trying everything they could to fire you. I like to think I had a little something to do with this change. Congratulations on your accomplishments, you deserve every one of them.

I know this is not the life you ever intended to have. I am so proud of you for taking that risk, for making the leap into a different direction and allowing yourself to become a pretty wonderful man. I love seeing you happy, and I love even more that I am a part of your happiness. Thank you for your friendship, for your devotion, for your strength. Thank you for everything.

With all my heart,

Dee Dee

_The end._

_Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed it._


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